Tumblr Ficlets for Sherlock
by mcquidditch235
Summary: Written for the prompt: John checking on Sherlock after an extremely stressful case, only to discover how cute a sleepy soft and weak Sherlock is. Bonus points if he also want to cuddle.
1. Sleep

Prompt: Hey cookie, how about this: John checking on Sherlock after an extremely stressful case, only to discover how cute a sleepy soft and weak Sherlock is. Bonus points if he also want to cuddle.

The case had been a doozy, definitely one for the books, and Sherlock had been running nonstop for 4 days. He'd hardly eaten or slept as the days passed. It was children. Cases with children always put Sherlock into a strop, but this one had been extremely difficult, as well as gruesome. They'd just returned from Scotland Yard and had hardly spared one another a glance when they arrived home; Sherlock went off towards his room, feet shuffling like a zombie, and John tramped heavy steps up the staircase to his room to change into the most comfortable pair of night clothes he owned. When he returned downstairs, expecting to find Sherlock curled up in his armchair where he normally crashed after a difficult case, but found the sitting room uncharacteristically empty of half-asleep Consulting Detective. He checked the kitchen, turning on the kettle as he did, and the bathroom, which also was unusually dry for a post case evening.

He returned to the kitchen to wait on the kettle, assuming that Sherlock was just taking a little longer to get changed than usual, but when water had been poured and tea had been steeped, and still no Sherlock appeared, john decided to go check on him. It had occurred, though only once or twice, that Sherlock passed out from either the exhaustion or the malnutrition after a difficult case. On the rare occasion this occurred it often left Sherlock with an impressive bump to his head, so it was best to be than sorry and check on him. John heaved himself from his place leaning heavily against the worktop, set his blessedly steaming mug down, and worked his way through the cluttered hallway to Sherlock's room.

The sight that met him had John huffing with an affectionate chuckle. Sherlock had made it about as far as untucking his shirt and undoing 3 buttons before collapsing in a sprawling heap halfway on the bed, sideways. His feet, still sheathed in inordinately expensive dress shoes, dangled inelegantly off the edge, and his face was squished tightly against the thick duvet. John stood and studied him for a moment before moving to help his exhausted flatmate at least into the bed. He had one shoe off and was untying the other when Sherlock shifted on the bed, a half-awake attempt to see what was happening around him. His curls formed a disastrous clump on one side of his head where he'd lain on them and his eyes were only half open, peering around bleerily before focusing on John.

"John? Watya doin'?" He slurred.

"I'm just helping you out a bit. You need to get in bed, preferably without your shoes on."

"Hmmmmm" he hummed sleepily, "Yes, I suppose shoes aren't good for the bed. Make everything dirty and . . . something." He flopped his head back down on the duvet.

"Ah, ah, ah!" John tsked, "Come on Sherlock, you need to get changed." John pulled on his arm futilely to get him up, but Sherlock's body was complete dead weight and the man, even half-asleep, was more stubborn than a bull.

"Nooooo, John! I'm tired!" He whined, voice muffled slightly by the soft blanket. John, even irritated because Sherlock was being difficult, couldn't help but be enamoured by the adorable detective.

"Well, sit up and let me help you dress and then you can sleep for as long as you'd like. Okay?"

"Fine." Sherlock huffed, and with weary, heavy limbs he ever so dramatically dragged himself up to sitting at the edge of the bed. He sat pliantly as John undid his shirt the rest of the way and pulled it off, replacing it with a soft, worn, cotton tee, then repeating the same process with his trousers. Occasionally Sherlock listed dangerously and John had to scramble to catch him before he tumbled off the bed.

When finally Sherlock was dressed Joh guided him gently down towards the pillows and tucked him in snugly. He was just turning to leave when Sherlock turned over and called his name softly.

"Yes Sherlock?"

"I'm lonely." He sniffled sadly. "Stay with me?"

John could only smile, blatant adoration written across his face, at the unexpected request. "Alright." He shuffled quietly to the far side of the bed and snuggled in, Sherlock's bed being far superior to his in terms of comfort. "Good night Sherlock." He called behind him, shutting his eyes and quickly beginning to doze. Just as he was on the edge of deeper sleep he felt a warm presence at his back, like someone trying to snuggle as close as possible without being intrusive. Without acknowledging it at all, he turned over to face Sherlock who was once again steadfastly asleep and wrapped his arms around the detective and pulled him in closer. "Good night, Sherlock." And together they drifted into peaceful slumber.


	2. Mistletoe

Oooooo what about a prompt where it's Christmas and they're working on a case or sth and somebody points out they're standing under a mistletoe and they behave like schoolkids because secretly they really want to kiss each other too

It wasn't much of a do, at least not in comparison to some of the more resplendent parties Sherlock had dragged John to over the years, just a couple of yarders, Molly, Mrs. Hudson, although Mycroft did make a brief entrance just to irritate Sherlock.

Everyone was quietly mulling about, chattering warmly in the comfortably small space. John and Sherlock mostly kept close to one another; Sherlock to be near to John like always, John to keep an eye on Sherlock, at least that's what he tried to make it seem. The two of them were completely smitten, though neither was brave enough to admit it for fear of rejection. It was decided by those closest to them that drastic action would need to be taken, or they would spend the rest of their days pining endlessly for one another.

Mrs. Hudson brought the mistletoe and with Molly's help decided where to hang it that it would most likely catch the two men, then Greg hung it for them with a mischievous grin painted across his features. Then it was simply a waiting game to catch John and Sherlock beneath it.

Much of the evening had passed before the 3 schemers began to grow nervous, they had somehow managed to subconsciously avoid the plant all evening. They shared nervous glances across the room from one another, but simply waited a little longer. Finally, Mrs. Hudson spotted them edging nearer to it so they could talk to Dimmock and gestured frantically at her fellows with just her eyes so they could watch.

The pair made their slow but sure journey towards Dimmock while Lestrade, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson watched with bated breath. When finally they met Dimmock, they were standing directly beneath the mistletoe.

Immediately Lestrade called out loudly enough to alert the whole room, "John! Sherlock! Look up!" The two men looked up simultaneously, and the crowd watched, shocked, as both faces went very quickly from confusion, to shock, to blushing furiously.

"Ummm . . ." John murmured under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck and averting his gaze from Sherlock's. "Mistletoe . . ."

"Yes. It would appear they expect us to kiss, John." Sherlock also averted his gaze, but kept flicking little glances at John in an attempt to judge his reaction. "Is . . . that . . . okay? We don't have to, but, everyone is watching. Rather intently, I might add. I believe it would be just as embarrassing to not do it." Sherlock spoke haltingly, eyes still averted from John completely.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Ummm . . . do you just . . . want to, like, ummmm . . ." John stammered, looking up again to look at Sherlock. Their eyes met and both saw the mass of hesitation and uncertainty in the other's features. John seemed to gain the courage first, slowly moving closer and closer to Sherlock's face, eyes still wide open. He stopped just centimeters from meeting Sherlock and stared.

A moment passed in frozen silence before Sherlock completed John's journey, filling the gap between their two mouths and meeting him in the middle. At first they didn't move, just lips to lips frozen, eyes still wide as dinner plates, until John seemed to realize what was happening. His eyes closed and he started to move, just a little. He brought his hand up to brush gently at the curls at the base of Sherlock's neck, which broke Sherlock from his reverie and allowed him to also close his eyes and join the kiss completely.

The room was dead silent as they kissed and kissed, the whole room enraptured by the surprisingly emotional pair beneath the mistletoe. Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, and Molly all stood beside one another grinning proudly. Finally the two broke apart, though they didn't go very far, just far enough away to make eye contact and see their shared grins. They shared a few whispered words before completely separating, though they quickly joined hands to remedy that, and turned to face the frozen crowd.

"Carry on with your business! Nothing to see!" Sherlock called out imperiously to the group. Quickly all eyes but 3 averted and quickly returned to their conversations. The pair worked their way to where the sly plotters were still grinning madly.

"You three arranged this I presume?" Sherlock scowled, though mostly out of habit than actual displeasure.

"Absolutely! Took you blokes too long to get your shit together on your own, so we gave you a shove!" Greg said amiably.

"Well then." Sherlock paused. "Thank you. A well-deserved shove. We're going now." And he quickly turned and left, John following behind him, hand still clasped in Sherlock's. He spared a sheepish wave to Greg, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson just as the lift doors opened and the two hurried inside. The 3 shared one more victorious smile between them before going off to socialize a bit more, Mrs. Hudson would stay late to give the boys time to do . . . whatever needed doing . . . undisturbed. Things would turn out well, and that brought a smile to her face.


End file.
